“How long are we supposed to sit here?” The helmsman asked. The surface of the nameless border planet had rotated by so many times he was sure he could draw a map of it from memory.
“Until they show.” The Captain muttered, without looking up from his Pad. “They wanted a face-to-face meeting, we’re obligated by treaty. The Glix aren’t known for their punctuality, but they will show.”
“Then what?”
“Up to them. They want to fight again, so be it: we’ve beat them back three times already, and we’ve only gotten stronger since. Hopefully they want something else now.”
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